When I ruled the World
by Pin Needle
Summary: In the moments before his death, Ichigo tries to remember the story of how he died. IchigoxAizen


I do not own Bleach

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**When I ruled the World**

**By: Pin Needle**

**Prologue**

There are many things in my life I wish I could have done differently. I wish I could have protected my loved ones better. I wish I could have spent more time with my family. I wish I could have stopped the destruction of my hometown. I wish that I had not gotten so caught up in this war that I would forget the reality of life. Had I been a more practical youth perhaps I would not need to wish for all these things. They would have never happened.

So, in the end of all things, I lay here now. I can feel something warm pooling out of my body and I barely can see the shattered ruins before me. I feel like crying. Am I really dying? I don't want to die…I want to live. I am not ready to leave this life just yet. I can hear footsteps approaching me and I hear my name being called out as if from a million miles away. My eyes close. I want to go back.

Back before the war with Aizen.

Back before Inoue Orihime was kidnapped.

Back before I went to go rescue Kuchiki Rukia.

Back before I was accidentally given my powers.

Back before my mother was murdered.

I want to go back and try to remember. What lead me to this point…how did it all happen…and above all, why did I choose this path? Out of all the paths I could have chosen, I had chosen this one. But why? What is the story of how I died?

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Think of my story as a broken memory, being shattered into a million different pieces. People who are dying do not remember things as they should. They grab a hold onto the very first image familiar to them. Whether it is something from their childhood or from something that they experienced as an elderly man. Their memories seem to skip around most of the time. From childhood to adulthood. I am no exception to this rule. I remember things as they me by.

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It's fair to say that this whole mess started the day I met Kuchiki Rukia, but I believe the roots of this tale go even beyond that. This whole mess started on the day I first met that man.

As a little boy, I had not been able to comprehend the differences between humans and ghosts. I thought spirits were just ordinary people (strange, but still normal) and I was unaware of the fact they were only visible to me. This was probably because everything in my life was presented to me in a happy manner. Back then, I lived in a carefree world. Always, I was being held and coddled by my mother. And played with by my father. And helped them take care of my little sisters, whom I was most protective of. There wasn't a single day that went by when I didn't receive their attention.

And it wasn't until I met that man did I start becoming conscious that I could see things others could not.

I had been playing with my friend, Arisawa Tatsuki, over by the riverside. We would often play there, mainly due to the fact it was very close to where we lived. I don't recall what kinds of games we would play, but I always remember being the first one to fall down.

"Oh come on, Ichigo!" Tatsuki had always yelled whenever this would happen. "Aren't you supposed to be a man? You shouldn't let me be beating you!"

I would sniff slightly, and my lip would quiver. I had been such a little baby when I was young. But at the same time, I had never wanted to give her the satisfaction of winning. I would stand back up, wiping the dirt from my knees and we continued the games we loved to play so much. But I was never able to beat her.

On that particular day, I remembered that we had been arguing about playing a game of tag. I know this because that very same morning, my mother had surprised me with a new pair of snow-white sneakers that I had wanted for so long. I had known, even at that young age, that they had been extremely pricey. I thought my mother must have scarified something she had been saving for in order to get them for me. They had meant so much to me, for it showed just how much she cared for me. I had not wanted to get them dirty.

I had not explained this to Tatsuki of course, because I thought she tease me relentlessly. I think I might have underestimated Tatsuki when we were kids. She probably wouldn't have teased me if I had just told her the truth instead of lying to her. I guess it was just me who couldn't trust her enough with my feelings.

In the end, I had ended up saying, "I don't want to get sweaty!"

She had eyed me wearily, and placed her hands on her hips. "What? Afraid you might fall down and scrap your knee? Gosh, you're such a mama's boy! "

I had hated when she called me that. It used to make me cringed. My temper had gotten the better of me and I had turned around and stomped away. Tatsuki had not followed me, apparently sensing that she might have gone a little over board. In my childhood, I had loved my family above everything else. And my mother had just a special place in my heart. Even today I could not explain that bond I had held toward her. Perhaps it was the same bond that all children hold with their mothers. I had wanted to protect her and feel protected whenever I was close to her.

It was only after I had placed enough distance between Task and I, did I stop walking. I had sat down on the pavement, wrapping my hands around my knees and stared into the water below. Like most children at that age, I had believed that the world had centered around me and that I was only the victim when ever things went wrong. I still did not have any understanding of blame or guilt. That would come later.

I stared into my reflection in the water. And I just sat there, engulfed in my own self-pity. I picked up a couple of twigs and threw them into the river. I watched as they fell downwards and landed gracefully onto the river. Ripples formed from underneath.

"She didn't have to call me a mama's boy…" I had mumbled. "Mom doesn't treat me like baby…she loves me…I don't know why Tatsuki had to say that…"

It was after I started to pull out blades of grass was when I started to want to go back home. My toes had curled inward and I brought back both of my arms to legs. I had stuffed my face in between them and I bit my lip, tears started to flow.

Here I was. A six-year old boy with nothing better to do then cry over the fact one of my best friends had called me a mama's boy. Call me mellow dramatic, but that was the kind of kid I had been. Spoiled and cowardly. But perhaps, had I not been so busy crying, I would have noticed that someone had appeared right behind me.

I continued to cry and the newcomer approached me slowly. I never saw the look the newcomer had given me, but I could guess now it was probably one of curiosity. Of interest. An interest to see how far I could go. I had only chosen to knowledge the person when I felt a heavy hand clapped onto my shoulder.

The gesture had felt like something my father would do to me. The thought of my father was what caused me too look up and stare into the face of the complete stranger. The light from the sun had blocked out the man's face, but I could see his brown eyes dulling into mine. I had been so shocked that I couldn't move a muscle. I had not tried to draw away from the man's touch and yet, I did not want him there.

"Why do you seem so sad?" Was all the man had said.

I had not replied, embarrassed for I realized how red I must have looked. I had wiped the tears from my face and took to staring into the water. Still, I had not said a word to the man.

The man had smiled and sat down next me, his hand still on shoulder. "You're name is Kurosaki Ichigo. Am I correct?"

I had gazed up the man. It annoyed me slightly that I still could not see his face clearly, but that was quickly washed away when astonishment dominated my mind. "H-how did you know that?!"

"Kurosaki Ichigo…I know much about you." The man had said. "But what is in important, is that I know you can see me."

I had widened my eyes, my anger at Tatsuki quite forgotten. My parents had told me to never speak to strangers, but this older man was so intriguing. How did he know my name? And what did he want from me? "What do you mean?"

The man had frowned. He had seemed a little disappointed. "You mean, you have yet to realize your abilities?"

"My…abilities?" I had questioned, now looking straight into those brown eyes with a sort of longing.

The man's frowned disappeared as he went back to smiling. "Yes, Ichigo. You see…I am no longer apart of this world and yet you can see me."

"No longer…apart of this world…do you mean…." I had thought for a moment. "Like a ghost?"

"If you like. Yes, I am a ghost."

I have always thought of myself as never being very brave. My actions are just due to my need to protect. It had nothing to do with bravery. I had ripped myself from the man's grasp and took a few steps back. Ghosts were things of legends. Ghosts were things people were not supposed to see. And yet, here comes this complete stranger telling me that was my ability. My talent. I could see things that others only dreamed about.

I had been so distracted by what the newcomer had said to me, that I had not realized the danger I had put myself in. I was dangerously close to the edge of the pavement. All it took was one more step backwards and I had felt my balance slip. I was plummeting to the water below.

The man had stood up very quickly and gripped my wrists, preventing me from falling. He twisted me around and I found myself almost thrown onto the soft grass behind. I had clutched my chest as I stared up at the man, stunned. He had saved my life. And yet…I wanted to run away from him. The man scared me. Why was he even here? What had he wanted?

The man had turned toward me, and must have seen how scared I had looked for he smiled. He had knelt down so that we were at eye level but he harbored a safe distant away as if he did not want to frighten me further. "Live well, little boy. Don't let your power go to waste…allow it to grow…and use it wisely to protect those that you love."

That smile.

Those brown eyes.

This is all I remembered of that spirit.

It had been from that day onward, that I knew I was different. Who would have thought that such a little event could trigger such a drastic change in the way I perceived the world around me? I could see things that others could not. And as I grew older, more would become clear to me. But what I had never expected to find out was that in the future was that the spirit who had chosen to save me was also the man who would help me along the road to death. Sousuke Aizen.

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I can by no means explain why I had never made the connection between Aizen and my realization of the spiritual world. Perhaps it was the fact that not to long after this meeting, my mother had been killed and all memory of him had vanished from my mind. In fact, my mother's death had wiped many things from my mind. It was then when I finally understood that the world was not as glamorous as it appeared.

Children so often believe that their families are somehow immune to death. They like to believe that their parents are giant diamond statues. Strong and unbreakable and always there to protect their young. And then they see their siblings as innocent, to young to be engulfed by death. And yet, here I was. I had just learned that my family was not immune. They, just like anyone else in the world, could die. And one day, they all would die.

I remember the day of her funeral. Standing in front my mother's grave. Clinging to my father's arm, crying into the sleeve of his jacket. My father had tugged his arm away from me, instead pulling me to his side, allowing me to cry into his chest. I recalled how he had smelled heavily of smoke. He had carried little Yuzu in his other arm and Karin had settled to hold onto his leg. In the days following my mother's death, my father had become our strong pole. He had understood that he was all we had left and did not sway from that burden.

I had really wanted to wail. I had really wanted to sob. I had wanted to scream that this was my entire fault. It was my fault mother was dead! I had wanted to shout. Blame me…punish me! It's my fault! Dad…Karin…Yuzu…mother is gone because of a fool I have been! I grasped my father's shirt, biting my lip. No matter how much I had wanted to cry, something had held me back. A large lump had formed in the back of my throat and nothing but dry whimpers managed to make their way through. I supposed it had something to do with little Karin staring up at me with her wide eyes. Maybe it had been a brotherly instinct, but I had deiced to be strong for her sake.

After what felt like forever, I had pulled away from my father's chest and sniffed. I took several paces back and took to sitting on my mother's gave. I fisted one of the stems of the many flowers surrounding me. I glared down at my hand. It had been these hands I had helped in my mother's death. She had died trying to save me. I had taken her away from this world….from my family.

_I won't let it happen it again…_I had thought. _I swear that from this day…I won't let it happen to my sisters, to my friends…I won't let anyone else get hurt because of me...I will always protect. _

A small speck of water had hit the very tip of my nose. I had touched it with curiosity and then looked to see the skies were all gray. The true color of mourning. Other sprinkle hit my forehead and then rain started to trickle down from the sky. My father had ran a hand through his hair and said to us that it might be time to go. Both Yuzu and Karin lingered, disappointment evident on their faces. And yet, they seem to have understood. Yuzu wrapped her arms around my father's neck, placing her head into his shoulder. Karin looked longing at Yuzu, as if she wish she could have her place. She too wanted to be comforted by our father's strong arms. I stood up, my promise still fresh in my mind. _I won't let anyone else get hurt because of me...I will always protect._

_Protect…_

_Protect..._

_Protect…_

_Protect…_

A wave of determination flooded my mind. This had to include my sister's feelings. She would never again feel sad or unprotected. I had reached out for her hand and folded it in my own. I might have not been our muscular father, but I had figured that an older brother was better then nothing at all. She seemed to be satisfied at any rate, for she had latched onto me like the slat clinging to the sea.

With my mother's death still so raw inside and my families' sorrows occupying every part of my mind, I had not even noticed that we had not been the only ones in the cemetery that day. Perhaps had seen the other person, my memory of him would not have vanished so quickly as it had. But the point was, that I had not seen him. I had not seen Aizen standing not too far from where we had stood. He had watched my family leave, empathy plain on his face. His eyes had traveled onto each of member of my family, lingering upon me the longest.

"So young…" The man had said in a hushed voice. "You are still so young…you should have not had experienced such a sad event." It would be a long time before I learned the true reason why Aizen had been in that graveyard

But this is the very beginning of the story of how I died.

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And in the end it's not the years in your life that count. It's the life in your years.  
- Abraham Lincoln

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**Author's Notes:**

I am going to try to make these notes as short as possible…so…here I go.

Thanks to Strikelight Angel who looked over my horrible grammar mistakes.

So, give me your thoughts and I hoped you enjoy this first chapter!


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